Two Left Feet (ForrestMaggie)
by linkthehylianhero
Summary: Saw Lawless and I can't get these two out of my head. So this is just some Forrest and Maggie fluff.


**Two Left Feet**

The radio had been on a lot more with Maggie Beauford in the house. She claimed that she wasn't used to the quiet of the country just yet. And if there was anything she missed about the city it was the music and the dancing. When certain songs came on she would talk of the memories they brought up. When she danced to it and who with. Forrest never really liked to hear about the latter part, but he knew just how hypocritical he would sound to voice it. He hadn't danced with Maggie once, even when she asked him to. He was stuck between having a reputation to keep with his brothers and not wanting to completely embarrass himself due to the fact that dancing was never his strong suit. So he always just shook his head with a grunt and went back to whatever it was he was doing.

But this night was different. Jack and Howard were both out, stirring up who knows what kind of trouble, leaving Maggie and Forrest alone for the evening. It was peaceful for once, Forrest had to admit. But there was always something about being alone with Maggie that terrified him. More than getting his throat slit, more than being shot at. But it was a kind of terror that he wasn't sure he wanted to be rid of. It was as if she found her way into his bones and made it hard for him to function. It was hard for him to hold her eyes for more than a few seconds at a time without feeling like she would find out what affect she had over him. As if she would know that she had a complete hold on him. He was so far wrapped around her finger that he couldn't figure out where he began or ended.

The clink of silverware on plates filled the silence between songs and occasionally Maggie would take a break from her food to lean her head back, close her eyes, and smile at a song that began to play. Forrest had to look away every time she did that.

"Oh, Forrest, this is one of my favorites," she said.

Forrest stood and took their empty plates in hand, wondering just how many favorite songs a woman was allowed to have before they were all just normal songs again. But something about the way she said it made him believe it. He took the dishes to the sink, debating whether to wash them then or later. He heard Maggie's chair scrape against the floor, her heels start to move, the floor creaking beneath her in time with the music. That's when he decided to wash the dishes then and there. With luck, he could prolong the process until the song was over and she had had her fill of dancing. But he should have known that Maggie was not avoided that easily.

"Wash them later," she pleaded. He could feel her dancing her way over to him. Felt her hand on his arm, where his sleeve had been rolled up. Those fingers that had once been city-smooth were now slightly calloused from her new job. She trailed them down his arm to his hand that almost twitched at the contact. "Please Forrest. I haven't ever danced to this song with anyone before."

That's when his heart hammered against his chest and he looked to the dishes. He shook his head, letting out a low grunt. But he would have given anything to be able to look at her and simply say 'okay'. But it wasn't that easy for him.

Maggie had a patient, half-smile on her face as she looked up at him, and for a long moment, neither of them moved or said anything. But then she reached out and took the plate from Forrest's other hand, setting it gently back in the sink. Then she slowly turned him to face her.

"Of all the men in my life, you're the only one I've truly wanted to dance with, yet you're the only one who doesn't want to dance with me," she said simply. She made voicing her mind look easy. But it was harder than hell for someone like Forrest.

"That ain't it," he mumbled, looking anywhere else but at her.

"Then what is?" she asked, straightening out a wrinkle in his shirt as if it was nothing. As if the contact didn't make his heart skip.

"I don't dance is all. I got two left feet. I'd only make you trip."

Maggie laughed and Forrest eyed her for a second before looking away again. "That's all?" she asked, smiling widely. "Oh Forrest, I don't mind! Besides, it's just you and me. And I doubt you're as bad as you say you are." Forrest shook his head and heard the song end, and suddenly he wanted to kick himself. A slower tune took its place. He was about to turn back to the dishes when Maggie said, "I've never heard this one before. Must be new." Then she gave him this look from under her lashes and he knew that he would not be able to deny her anymore. "Please, Forrest?"

Forrest swallowed and did not reply. She took the absence of a grunt as a yes and smiled, taking his hand and pulling him into the middle of the kitchen. He was awkward as she placed his hands where they needed to be, and even more so when she stepped close. He almost pulled away then, scared that her closeness would make him step on her. But her smile held him and when they started to move she said, "You're not so bad," in a quiet, relaxed voice. Then she leaned in to rest her head on his chest.

It was hard for him to not see how small she was compared to his own frame. He was afraid that he was holding her too tight or perhaps not tight enough. And suddenly his mind was racing, reminding himself how perfect Maggie was and how imperfect he was. How he must seem so uneducated to her. Why on earth did she chose to stay?

Forrest's mind had been running so fast that he almost didn't realize that the song had ended. What snapped him out of it was the pressure on his cheek where Maggie placed a kiss. He looked at her, her light eyes looking back. Her smile was gone, but there was something else written on her face in that moment. She leaned up and placed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. And for all the time he spend avoiding her gaze, he made up for it then, because he simply could not look away this time.

"You're a good man," she said to him, as if she knew he needed to hear it. Her eyes wandered from his own to his nose, his lips, back to his eyes before she placed a hand on the side of his face. Her thumb ran slowly across the stubble there. And then Maggie kissed him. And he was not fool enough to pull away. She wrapped her arms about his shoulders and his hands were left on her back. He was suddenly aware of everything that made her unique in that moment. The smell of her perfume, her silk shirt beneath his hands, the texture of her lipstick…

Maggie pulled away first, her eyes opening slowly, her chest heaving slightly. Forrest eyed her, waiting. She broke into a smile. The corner of Forrest's mouth twitched slightly and he finally tore his gaze away and dropped his hands. He turned back to the sink then to turn on the water. But he knew washing the dishes would only have to be an excuse to get out of dancing when his brothers were around from then on.


End file.
